However, I considered it my great honour to be a part of such a historic night, since as I arrived a great stone had been lifted from old Bill’s back by none other than you and Indy. The two of you wiped your paws, grabbed a hold of that monstrosity and slowly helped the Bard back onto his feet.

 

He had allowed you to read what he had written so far, and with some grunting here, a little heaving there, Shakespeare was free to walk down his path of thought freely, unencumbered as the adventure revealed to him it’s path.

 

“It’s a comic tragedy!” Bill said to the bottom of another red. He seemed quite pleased with this turn of events, with this new turn, so much so that he got lost on that path he was newly able to walk and lost track of us completely. 

 

Indy had the sense still to look at us and tell us our work was finished and we best leave the master to his art. 

 

As we left you looked at me and you said; “One sword keeps another in it the sheath”. That night as we sauntered down the cobblestone street weaving our way through a non existent crowd, it made no sense to me.

 

As I read your letter now I wonder whether I can’t lift a stone from your path. Given that George Herbert was a holy man, what if he was referring to the sword of our faith? The bible itself, or the word of God. What if this “sword” that teaches love and kindness wasn’t the sword that keeps the sword of pain, strife and conflict in it’s sheath?

 

Maybe throw the idea past Indy. See what he thinks. Who’s to say what George truly meant? I kind of like this conclusion though, so I think I’ll walk down that path and see what turns I come to.

 

Have a great night old friend. 

 

Here’s to the next time we can walk that cobblestone street together.